The Other Brother
by Neemers
Summary: What happened to Alex after the Sentinel incident?


Written as a thank-you for Niteflite's reviews. ________________________________________________________________  
  
Alex strolled down the beach with his surfboard. It was only about an hour past dawn: too late for the couples that came out to see the sunrise, too early for everyone else. By afternoon this place would be packed, but for now he was happy. He was alone, and he could pretend nothing had changed. Before his life had turned into one major wipe-out he was still struggling to get out of, he'd done this all the time. He'd gone down to the beach when he was the only one around for miles and just rode the waves. It made him feel like he was the only person in the entire world, but somehow it felt right instead of lonely. It had been his personal time, before he went to school or went out to hang with his best buds.  
  
Now, this time was his only respite. He'd freely crowed to half the island about how he'd found his brother. He'd shown them the pictures, told them his name and where he lived. After about a week his friends had told him to lay off, and he had. Of course, that hadn't stopped him from putting several choice pics of his bro in very prominent places on his notebooks.  
  
Then the Sentinel footage had been shown on the island. All his friends gave their exact opinions of mutants, none of which were cool with Alex. Several of them even joined the FoH. At first they were merely wary of him because his brother was 'one of those freaks.' When he'd refused to badmouth his own brother, and even stuck up for Scott when they started badmouthing him, he'd been labeled a mutie-lover and shunned. Now, the only ones that didn't shun him were the beach dogs.  
  
He'd been one of the cool kids, but now he faced more dead animals in his locker and spitwads than all the geeks in the school put together. Nobody had tried beating him up or giving him wedgies yet, but he couldn't count on that lasting. When he tried to ignore them, the tricks just kept getting more malicious every day. The teachers were no help; some of them actually encouraged the torment.  
  
At times he thought about going to join his brother at the Institute, but he'd seen on the news how much trouble the school was in. He had to stay here, just in case it went under. He had to be here to give his brother a home if he ever needed one. When they were little Scott had always looked out for him. Now was the time for him to be the responsible one.  
  
That left him where he was now. He dove off into the surf and paddled out to the waves. He used to always be a little cold when he did this, but that had started changing at the same time his hands had started aching and burning. He supposed that was one good thing about the whole mutant mess. Now it was just him, his board, the wind and the waves. He relaxed and just sailed, letting nature's patterns lull him into a gentle pattern where he didn't have to think about what a mess his life was.  
  
Some time later, Alex arose from his self-imposed daze and realized how much higher the sun was in the sky. It was time for him to go home before his mom started worrying about mutie-haters catching him. He rode in and did his best to ignore those around him. He saw a few tourist girls checking him out and giggling, but he ignored them. He desperately wanted to go over and talk to them. He wanted to talk to someone outside his own family without having to see disgust on their faces or listen to the snide comments, but he couldn't. He wouldn't do that to them. Every time he talked to any of the tourists, his schoolmates in the FoH would make sure the rest of their time on the beach was miserable, or come over and make sure they knew they were talking to mutie-loving scum. Better to just continue on his way and let them get on with their lives.  
  
Alex continued up the beach shirtless. Before the mutant mess, he'd always left one on the beach, but ever since the Sentinel incident, anything he left on the beach tended to 'mysteriously dissapear.' He tried to ignore how his old friends intentionally didn't notice him or glared at him. He kept his face as still as a mask. It wouldn't do to let them know how badly they were hurting him.  
  
He saw a girl high in the sand dunes desperately trying to rearrange her wrap and he wandered over, curious in spite of himself. Once he came near, he saw what the problem was. Make-up low on both sides of her torso and hips had rubbed off, revealing the lilac skin beneath. Within a few moments, she noticed his shadow and turned around to glare at him, scared and defiant at the same time.  
  
Alex reached over to her and she struggled not to shy away. He tugged her cover over so that it covered all the exposed skin on her left side, which was much worse than the right. Then he slung his surfboard a little lower, holding it so it shadowed the purple bits of her that still showed. Then he told her, "It looks like you could use an escort home."  
  
She gave his a wavery, unsure smile and told him where to go. As they walked off they started talking to each other, and Alex struggled not to show how glad he was of the conversation. This was the first time he'd had the chance to goof off with someone his age in over a month. He hadn't realized until now just how much he missed human interaction. Her outfit screamed tourist, but Alex realized that maybe, just maybe, he'd finally have a friend again, at least for a little while. 


End file.
